


The Country on the Mountain

by shinealightonme



Category: Kino no Tabi | Kino's Journey - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Cultural Differences, Gen, Original Character(s), a stranger comes to town, missing episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8882980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: Kino arrives in a new town that makes two distinct first impressions.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satyreyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satyreyes/gifts).



> There's some room for interpretation with Kino's gender -- and room for literal interpretation with regards to Japanese vs. English pronouns -- but I have always read Kino as agender, and portray them as such in this fic, including the use of the singular 'they' pronoun. I hope this portrayal is respectful as well as syntactically clear.

"Aah, I don't like the look of that bridge, Kino."

Kino slowed to a stop, putting a foot down on the ground to keep their balance. The bridge was narrow, built from aged wood, but there was nothing to suggest it wasn't reliable.

"Scared of heights, Hermes?" Kino asked.

The motorrad whined. "I don't want to fall off!"

Kino swung a leg over the motorrad, dismounting, and kept a hold on Hermes's handles. "We'll walk across. It'll be fine as long as we go slow."

"All right." Hermes sounded anything but all right. "But be careful!"

Kino huffed, watched as the breath turned to a visible cloud in the air. It had gotten steadily colder as they'd climbed in elevation. That morning, Hermes had taken three tries to get started. They were lucky that it was too dry for ice to form on the roads.

Lucky for chapped lips and cracked skin and a parched throat. Honestly, Kino didn't like the look of the bridge any better than Hermes did, but it would get them to the next country by noon. If they descended and tried to go around the ravine, it could be days. Hermes needed fuel, and Kino wanted a shower.

So Kino just patted Hermes's headlight. "I'm always careful."

"Sure," Hermes said gloomily, as Kino set foot on the bridge. "But you never know. You could decide to try something new today."

"Not today."

A hunting cry, from a falcon far overhead. No matter how high they climbed, there was always a bird that flew higher. It was something to rely on.

Something better than the bridge. It was solid under foot, but Kino would have felt better if there were handrails. Or at least ropes.

Not that Kino couldn't walk in a straight line. They probably wouldn't even use handrails if they had them; their hands were busy holding Hermes upright. But it was still possible, somehow, to miss something that you didn't need. That you wouldn't even notice if it were there.

"Huh?"

Kino came to a full stop.

"Hey, Kino, go faster!"

"I thought you wanted me to be careful."

"Yes, but I also want this to be over already!"

"Okay." Kino walked forward another few feet and then stopped again for a better look.

The wished for handrails had appeared.

Starting at the midpoint, rails ran along the sides of the bridge. They came up nearly to Kino's chest. It would have been very difficult to fall off the bridge.

Kino looked back over their shoulder, wondering if the rails on the first half of the bridge had simply gotten knocked off.

But there was nothing. No sign of damage or wear. There just had not been any rails.

"Kino," Hermes whined.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd, that there's rails over this half of the bridge?"

"Eh. Don't look at a gift horse for a month."

Kino started to correct Hermes, but gave up and shook their head.

"Sure." They started to walk again.

The entire character of the bridge had changed. The bridge widened, leaving Kino and Hermes with more distance from the edge. The wood looked better cared for, on this side, no loose nails or stray splinters. There were even carvings in the wood, geometric patterns that blossomed into floral scenes, animals and heraldic symbols entwined.

"It's pretty," Kino said, noticing a creature like a lion or a snake.

Hermes decided to play art critic. "It's a little over the top."

Kino thought about pointing out that it was a bridge, after all. But instead they just kept walking.

They reached the ground safe and sound. The road on this side of the ravine was well paved, so Kino climbed back on Hermes, and made good time to the next country.

They passed a sign before too long, "Welcome, Travelers!"

"That's friendly," Hermes noted.

But fifty feet past that, there was another sign, as large as the first: "GO AWAY."

"Someone can't make up their minds," Hermes noted.

"Hm."

"Do we go? Or not?"

"This is where the road leads," Kino said. They didn't slow down until they saw a building.

Kino dismounted, then, and pulled off their riding goggles. The dry air hit their eyes.

"Hello!" A young man emerged from the building. He was wearing a uniform that Kino had never seen before, but that was still very obviously a uniform. "Are you a traveler?"

"Yes."

"Come in, come in! How long are you staying for? Where are you going? Oh, no, come in." He was too excited to remember how to do his job well. Kino thought he was probably very new. "Oh, do you want some water?"

"Yes, thank you." Kino brought Hermes in through the wide, open doorway to the customs building.

The young man managed to ask Kino several questions without waiting for answers, and to talk for several minutes without telling them anything, but he did eventually fill out the paperwork he needed. Kino, one traveler with motorrad, staying for three days.

He also recommended a local inn, giving overly thorough directions and going so far as to draw Kino a map to a building that was about ten minutes down the road and straight ahead. Kino thanked him again.

"I think I'll like this country," Hermes observed once they were on their way again. "I like countries that welcome travelers."

"Hm."

"Don't you like it better when they welcome us?"

"It doesn't really make a difference," Kino said. "As long as they let us come and let us go again."

"Well, I still say I like people who like having me around."

"What's not to like about you, Hermes?"

The inn, when they found it, was welcoming enough to make Hermes blush, if Hermes were capable of such a thing. The couple that ran the inn insisted on giving Kino "the nicest room in the inn". If Kino had thought this was a line they used on all of the customers, a single look at the room was enough to prove that theory wrong. It was large enough for Kino to turn cartwheels in several times over, with a banked fire that the innkeeper's wife stoked to full, roaring heat. The bed was soft enough to sink into, and the bathroom, attached to the bedroom, had an enormous shower with water that ran hot as soon as it was turned on.

Kino showered, and cleaned up, then emerged to ask the innkeepers where to find fuel for Hermes.

"Oh! There's a shop just down the street. Let me show you the way."

Kino demurred, saying they could find the way themselves and didn't want to cause any trouble.

"Very well," the innkeepers said. "But do stop by the apothecary, on the way. He sells the most wonderful cream for dry skin."

Kino thanked them, and brought Hermes out of the inn.

The apothecary and his assistant greeted Kino with the same enthusiasm as the innkeepers. When Kino explained that they were looking for something for dry skin, the apothecary immediately produced several different products, and encouraged Kino to try each before making a purchase.

By the time that Kino had tried all of them, they weren't even sure they still needed any, their skin was so much improved. But it would be several days travel before they descended from the mountains, so Kino purchased one of the unscented lotions and thanked him for his time.

The mechanic's shop was another display of overt hospitality, cheerfully selling them fuel and offering to give Hermes's engine a check for no extra charge.

"No, thank you," Kino said. "I checked the engine myself recently."

"Oh, I didn't realize you were a mechanic, miss!"

"Just Kino, please."

"Of course. Say, what sort of tools do you carry with you?"

After a lengthy discussion of motorrad care, which had even the attention-loving Hermes fidgeting, Kino extracted them from the situation by asking the mechanic what he thought they should see around town.

He recommended the art gallery, and offered to fill their water bottle before they left.

"They're very cheerful here, aren't they?" Hermes asked, as Kino walked them down the street toward the gallery.

"Very helpful," Kino agreed.

The art gallery was not what Kino had expected. The building was small, just one room. Paintings were laid as thick on the walls as they could be without overlapping. The floor was packed so tightly with sculptures that the small in stature Kino had to step carefully. The light was dim and Kino could not see anyone else in the building.

It was the first place in this country that had not been aggressively welcoming, and Kino relaxed. Though the artwork did not look like it wanted to relax its viewers.

Kino lost some time to staring at the largest painting. It was a landscape, of the very mountain they were on, but rendered strange and unfamiliar. One side of the mountain was bright; but the other fell to shadows, with a hint of something unseen and terrible lurking within.

Most of the other paintings had the same dichotomy: light and dark, beautiful and ugly, joy and terror.

"Do you like that one?" a voice asked from behind Kino.

Kino turned and saw and old woman, standing with her hands tucked behind her back.

"Yes," Kino admitted.

"I'm glad." The woman smiled. "That one took me two years to finish."

"It's beautiful." Kino thought. All of the paintings shared a similar style, as well as a similar feel. "Are these all yours?"

"Yes," the woman said.

"You must have been painting for a long time."

The woman smiled. "Half of my life."

"You've clearly worked very hard on these."

The artist shook her head. "The key to great art is inspiration."

It was growing late in the day, and Kino was hungry. So Kino took one last look at the towering mountainside and said farewell to the artist.

Hermes was put out. "You were in there forever."

"The art was very good."

"I don't see why I couldn't go in."

"You wouldn't have fit," Kino pointed out. "But if the artist is there tomorrow I could ask her to bring some art out for you to look at. Just don't tell her that it's over the top."

"Why are artists so sensitive, anyway?" Hermes asked.

"I don't know. Waiting for inspiration, I guess."

"You don't like that?"

Kino considered their words for a minute. "I think counting for inspiration to create something is like if you and I stood still and waited for the world to come to us."

"But then we'd never get anywhere!"

"True." Kino smiled. "If we waited a very long time, the world would change around us."

"Eh, but that'd be so boring!"

"You're right. Let's go back to the inn. I bet they have some dinner."

Kino would have won that bet. There was an enormous spread of food laid out for them, far more than one traveler needed: a hot casserole, fresh bread warm from the oven, roasted vegetables, broth, a soft mild cheese and berries for dessert. Kino tried some of everything and told the innkeepers that it was delicious. They seemed pleased with the praise, and more pleased with the company. The wife refilled Kino's cup and asked for a story from their journeys.

Kino took a sip of the spiced tea and thought.

"There is a country where the people do not sleep," Kino started.

"Oh!" the husband said. "How -- ?" But he caught his wife's eye. "My apologies for interrupting. Please, continue."

Kino nodded in acknowledgement. "The people do not sleep," Kino continued, "because their scientists discovered a procedure that would keep a person awake. They took this knowledge to their king, because a ruler who did not need to sleep could spend more time learning about the problems facing his country, and meditating on solutions to those problems.

"So the king became the first to give up on sleep, and he became ever wiser and more just. When there was flooding in the lowlands, he heard about it in the dead of night and had devised a strategy to save property by the next dawn. When there was a fire, he had already foreseen the danger and brought people out of the danger zone. When the neighboring country attacked, he thought up countless battle plans and led the people to victory.

"Then he had another idea, which was that if everyone in the country could be as productive and have as much time as he did, they would all be better. So he told the scientists to repeat the process on all of the citizens.

"Soon, no one had to sleep. People could do twice as much work as before. Children could read all night, learning twice as fast as they did in school.

"But things started to go badly. The scientists discovered that humans need to sleep, to dream. Without sleep, the people in this country began to dream, even though they were wide awake. And because they were awake, they believed their dreams were really happening, and they acted on those beliefs. Children dreaming of monsters would run away, and fall and hurt themselves. Husbands who dreamed of their wives having affairs would go pick fights with the imagined lovers. The king, dreaming that his advisers were scheming against him, locked them away one by one, until he had no one left to speak to.

"Soon, the country was less productive than ever. The citizens spent too much of their time battling imagined problems. Or, they wouldn't trust the world around them to be real. A house burned down with a family inside, who did not leave because they thought the flames were only in their dreams.

"Travelers became both treasured and feared. Treasured, because they could be trusted to know what was real and what was only a dream. Feared, because they might not be real at all. They may only be the dream, lying to the dreamer about being a dream.

"So when you walk through that country, you hear from you everywhere: is it real? Is it a dream?

"And the people ask this every hour, for they have no reprieve from sleep."

"Oh!" the wife said, eyes wide.

Her husband clapped his hands together once. "A very good story."

"And so well told," the wife agreed.

Kino nodded in thanks.

"But you must be tired from your travels," the husband said. "Do you need anything?"

"No, my room is well stocked."

The innkeepers wished Kino a good night's sleep.

"That was a good day," Hermes observed, as Kino turned off the lights in their room.

Kino stared upward. The canopy on the luxurious four poster bed blocked the ceiling from view. The fabric was a spring green, but in the dark, with the shadows formed by the folds in the canopy, it looked ominous.

"I suppose," Kino said, and rolled over to fall asleep.

-

Kino rose at the usual early hour to draw and clean their guns.

The rising sun's rays broke through the curtains, warming the room. The drapes on the bed were a friendly color, now.

"I wonder what kind of spread they'll have for you for breakfast," Hermes said, as Kino led them to the dining room.

"I hope they don't go to too much trouble."

Kino's hosts had not gone to too much trouble. In fact, there was no food in the dining room, though the table was still set from the night before.

Kino looked around. They could get something in town, or eat rations. But they'd gotten their hopes up after last night's gourmet meal.

The door opened from the kitchen, and the female innkeeper entered.

"Excuse me," Kino said. "Is there any breakfast to be had?"

The woman glared at Kino. Without a word, she returned to the kitchen.

Kino waited for half a minute. Had that been a dismissal?

They had just made up their mind to leave when the woman reappeared, holding a plate.

She slammed the plate down on the table. There was toast on the plate, and nothing else.

"Here," she said. "Choke on it."

Then she returned to the kitchen.

"I don't think she's a morning person," Hermes whispered.

The door to the kitchen flung back open again.

"And SHUT THAT THING UP!" the woman yelled, pointed at Hermes.

Kino picked up the toast. It was burnt. "Thank you for breakfast," Kino said. "We are going into town now."

The woman turned and left while Kino was still speaking.

"Maybe we wore out our welcome," Hermes wondered as they walked down the street. There was a distinct gloom in the words.

Kino squinted up at the sky. There was another mountain peak even higher than the one they were on, in the same direction as the sun. How thin the air must be up there. How bright.

"We told them we were going to be here for three days," Kino pointed out. "They would have said if they couldn't host us." Kino shrugged. "Nothing to do about it now."

There was a fountain in the road up ahead. A stone swan perched atop the spring. Yesterday there had been children splashing around in it. Today one little boy was smashing a rock against the swan's face. He was trying to break off its beak.

Kino rather liked the swan, but before anything could happen to it, two older boys came and pushed the little boy down. One of them stood on his back. He couldn't get his face out of the water.

It was an excessive punishment, for trying to harm the stone swan.

As Kino reached the fountain, the two older boys looked at them and ran off. The little boy picked himself out of the water. He coughed a great deal but didn't cry.

He just picked up his rock and ran off, in the same direction as the two older boys.

"I liked this town better yesterday," Hermes said.

"The swan probably agrees with you."

There were not many people out on the street. It was still early in the day, the sun striking Kino's eyes from its low position in the sky.

The people who were out were mostly in a hurry. No one stopped to chat.

One man brushed past Kino, bumping them so hard that they nearly fell over.

He didn't say a word, though he looked back at Kino just long enough to make eye contact.

"Is this like when people say 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee'?" Hermes asked.

"I think that's more of an expression."

Another man walked toward them. He didn't rush past, or bump Kino. He came to a stop a few feet away from Kino and Hermes.

It was the apothecary.

"Good morning," Kino greeted him, on the chance that he would greet them kindly in return.

The apothecary sneered. "Just the thing a stupid little boy would say."

It had been worth a try, anyway.

"I notice that the behavior of people in town has changed from yesterday," Kino said. "Could you tell me why that is?"

"Ha. You don't know anything, do you?" The apothecary held himself upright, proud of whatever knowledge it was he held. "I could sell you the pill, but it'll cost you." He reached down and slapped Hermes' tank, ignoring the motorrad's squawk of protest. "More than you could afford."

"What pill is that?" Kino asked.

The apothecary laughed. He reached into the pocket of his brown apron and pulled out a small woven satchel. "Do you want a taste?"

"No," Kino said. "I only want to understand."

"Tch. No use explaining things to an idiot like you." The apothecary put the satchel back in his pocket.

Kino nodded a farewell to him and stepped around him, since he showed no inclination of getting out of their way.

"Did you have to be polite to him?" Hermes asked, when they were far enough away. "He didn't care."

"I cared."

"He wasn't very nice to me," Hermes complained.

Kino considered this. "If I promise to be nice to you, will you feel better?"

"Maybe."

"Eh, not good enough. No promise."

"What!"

They had wandered quite far down the cobbled road. There were still parts of town that Kino wanted to explore, but their attention fell on the art gallery.

It was closed.

Three of the windows had curtains drawn. The fourth was open, but only to reveal the lights were off.

Kino stepped closer to peer inside.

The statues dropped shadows across each other, becoming unknowable and grotesque.

Kino moved on, but came to a stop a few feet away.

On the second floor of the building, through an open window, Kino could see the artist, painting.

As though she could hear Kino's gaze, the artist looked out the window. She jerked her head at Kino.

Kino started around the building, in the direction the artist had indicated.

Off the alley behind the building, there was another door. When Kino tried it, it opened to a flight of stairs.

"Don't leave me here!" Hermes called out, as Kino put a foot on the first step.

Kino eyed Hermes, considering his weight and the steep stairs ahead.

"Be patient," Kino said. They rolled Hermes into the stairwell. There was enough room at the bottom of the stairs for a motorrad, if it was positioned just right. It was better than leaving Hermes in the alley, after the encounters they had had today.

"So, the traveler returns," the artist said when Kino entered her loft. It was a wide open space, bright with sunlight. Kino could see every line around the artist's eyes and mouth: an ethereal frown. "Couldn't find something new to gawk at? I thought your sort only cared for novelty."

"There are still new things to see here," Kino commented. "I was hoping to find some information about the history and customs of this town."

"Heh." The artist paused her motion, yellowed paintbrush hanging in the air between the canvas and the palette. The paint beaded along the bristles' tip, threatening to fall to the floor. "You know it's useless, don't you?"

"There is no museum in this town, then?"

"Stupid child," the artist said. Her brush made contact with the canvas. "You will never understand any place you travel. You haven't the dedication. You cannot learn a thing in three days time. If you wanted to understand, you would stay here a lifetime. But no, your sort can't handle that. You lack the backbone. So you move on and tell yourself you know what it is, to live on this mountain and breathe this air."

"You argue from your own point of view," Kino stated. "Others would say that a wide range of experience grants a wide knowledge base."

"They are fools. And you are a fool if you believe them. At best, you are lying to yourself. At worst." The artist shrugged. A single drop of yellow paint ran down her finger tips. "You realize what a hollow life you live. And those with hollow lives find ways to end them, soon enough."

Kino didn't blink.

"Ask your question, hollow one," the artist asked. She made another calculated dab at her canvas.

"The character of this town has changed from the day before," Kino said. "My interactions with people that I met yesterday are very different this morning."

"And you want to know, which is the real character," the artist finished.

"I want to know what explanation you give yourself for the change in your behavior," Kino corrected. "As I understand, there is a pill involved."

"Oh, are you looking for the pill?" The artist placed her paintbrush on the desk by the window. Yellow paint stained the polished hardwood surface. She didn't move to stop it. Instead, she opened the drawer of the desk and reached her paint speckled fingers in to hold up a single white pill. "Here it is. Take it, then. Perhaps your life will be less hollow."

Kino did not move.

The artist approached them, slowly, only coming to a halt when she was right in front of Kino. Too close for comfort, even though her face was inches above Kino's.

"Won't you charge me for it?" Kino asked. "The apothecary suggested they were quite expensive."

"No charge." The artist smiled. Cold.

"Then no, thank you."

"Oh?"

Kino shook their head. "If you will not charge me, then I must assume that my experience of it is payment enough for you. And that is not a payment I am willing to make, without knowing its value to you. Or its cost to me."

The artist's eyes flashed. "You think you're so clever, don't you."

Kino did not answer.

"This is the foundation our country is built upon. With this one pill, all of our worst impulses are channeled into one day. The next day, we are our best selves. We instruct our children, we cherish our wives...we greet travelers. No longer are we surprised if friends or strangers will treat us poorly, if they lash out at us. No longer are we surprised by our own failings. We know, one day, we will be perfect. And the next day, we will not."

"I see. You separate the parts of yourself that you judge to be good from the parts that you judge to be bad."

"Better than to let cruelty lurk in every moment."

"Better than being surprised by kindness," Kino added.

"You think you can judge us?"

Kino shook their head. "I make no attempt to judge anyone."

"Just by observing, you judge. And you don't even have the strength to admit it. You think you're better than us, but what are you? A traveler. You don't even commit to being one person for more than three days." The artist reached forward and tucked the pill into the pocket of Kino's pants. Kino wondered if she was leaving yellow marks as she did so. Signs of a trespass. "When you realize that your life is meaningless," the artist said, into Kino's ear. "Then you will want this." She pulled back and smirked. "Call it a gift."

She returned to her painting, as though Kino were not even there.

Kino started for the door.

"May I see what you are painting?" Kino asked.

"It isn't finished."

"Yes. That is why I wanted to see it."

The artist considered Kino for a moment, before turning her canvas around.

It was only the background yet, yellow falling away into black.

"Thank you," Kino said.

The artist ignored them, and kept painting.

-

Kino didn't like their odds of getting fed at the inn that night, so they tried to find somewhere else to eat dinner.

By the time the sun was setting, long shadows falling along cobble stones, Kino didn't like their odds of getting fed anywhere.

Many of the shops that had been open yesterday were shut. Kino supposed some business owners wouldn't find it profitable to open on a day when the customers would be rude, or even criminal. Or maybe the owners just gave in to the base desire to be lazy.

The one open restaurant Kino could find refused to serve them. Kino left without disputing the decision.

The bar next door had a dinner menu on the window, but it also had several inebriated patrons, who took undue interest in Kino when they entered.

"I would like a table for dinner," Kino told the bartender.

"Oh?" The bartender looked up from the glass he was cleaning, but not to look at Kino. To look at something behind Kino. "We'll need to see payment in advance."

A drunk man grabbed at Kino's left arm from behind, but Kino was ready. The bartender's look had given the game away.

Kino ducked and twisted. The drunk man was larger than Kino, but he was careless. By the time he'd regained his balance, Kino had their back to the bar and a hand on the Persuader.

Kino didn't draw it. That could come later, if necessary.

It wasn't necessary. The drunk man took a few steps backwards from Kino. He stepped on the toes of some friends of his who had come up behind him, to help rob the traveler.

They backed away as well. None were ready for a fair fight.

Kino supposed bravery was one of the virtues of a good day. Or was the virtue on display risk assessment?

Kino turned their head just enough to catch sight of the bartender again. "If that is how this establishment operates, I won't need that table after all."

Kino ended up eating rations while sitting on the side of the swan fountain.

"At least the stars are nice, this high up," Hermes said.

He had a point.

"They make me think of a song," Kino mused.

"What song?"

Kino sighed. "I don't remember the words."

"Hm." Hermes hummed tunelessly for a minute. "Twinkle, twinkle -- "

"Not that one."

Hermes went back to the humming. It was pleasant for several minutes before -- 

Someone screamed, in the night. Close by.

Kino was on their feet instantly. There was another sound -- a sob -- and the distressed person was clearly coming closer.

There was more, too; running feet, voices calling to each other.

A woman burst into view, holding a package tight to her chest.

Just steps behind her, there were half a dozen men and women, closing in.

Kino watched, assessing the situation -- but there was little time to assess. Scant seconds after they'd come into view, the pursuers caught up to the woman.

They shoved her down.

She cried out as her knees, then her elbows, hit the ground. She curled up around the package in her arms, but there were too many people after her. Some grabbed her legs, some her arms, and they pulled her open, wrestling it away from her.

"Let's go!" one of the men yelled, and some of the attackers ran after him. Two of them stayed a moment, to kick the woman while she was down.

They didn't run past Kino, or Kino might have done something to stop them.

Instead, Kino approached the woman on the ground, who was now sobbing. From pain, or from the loss of the package.

"Do you need a hand?" Kino asked, extending one to the woman.

The woman looked at it mistrustfully, but took it all the same. She used Kino to pull herself up -- and then threw a powerful punch at Kino's face.

Kino pulled back enough to soften the blow, but not enough to avoid it entirely.

The woman ran off, past Hermes, in the opposite direction of her attackers.

Kino sighed. "I think it's time for bed."

-

"Such a shame you won't be able to stay for a few more weeks! There's going to be an eclipse, it's simply gorgeous. Tell her."

"Wonderful thing, eclipses," the innkeeper's husband dutifully repeated his wife, and took another helping of eggs.

Kino nodded. "I'm sure it will be lovely. But I have to move on."

The innkeeper's wife sighed and passed Kino a plate of fresh fruit. "Well, if you change your mind, you're more than welcome to stay here. We do love having travelers."

"Wonderful thing, travelers."

Breakfast finished, Kino thanked their hosts for their hospitality and took to the road out of town.

Kino wasn't sure, but the children running by, laughing and playing, looked like the same children that had fought in the swam fountain.

Kino shook their head.

"I'm just starting to like it here again," Hermes said. "Well, at least we got two good days and one bad day."

"Either way. It would still be time to leave."

Passing the art gallery, Kino stopped for a moment to look in.

The artist was inside, dusting a sculpture, and when she saw Kino she immediately hurried out.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Yes. It's time for me to continue on."

"And you hardly saw our town. You'll have to visit us again."

"Perhaps." Kino looked past the artist and back inside. "Before I go, could I see the painting again? The one you were working on yesterday."

"Oh!" The artist looked taken aback. "No, I'm afraid -- I never paint on the good days."

"I see." Kino nodded. "Thank you, all the same."

"Hold on." The artist darted back inside and came back out with a pastry. "Here. For the road."

Kino thanked her again, and moved on.

Outside of town, there was another bridge.

This time, Kino was not surprised when the character of the bridge changed, halfway through, from wide and ornate to narrow and plain.

Kino did stop at the midpoint, though, considering what lay before and what lay behind.

Kino reached into their pocket and pulled out the pill the artist had given them yesterday.

"Are you going to take it?" Hermes asked.

Kino did not answer.

"I don't know if I'd like you on a bad day! But I am curious...and it would be a good day after, right? Aren't you curious? Kino!"

"No," Kino said. "I'm not curious."

"Then what are you thinking about?"

"I'm surprised she can't see it."

"See what?"

Kino ran their thumb along the pill. There was a faint smudge of yellow on it, that wouldn't come off. "There are shadows, and highlights. But it's still one painting."

Kino leaned over the edge and dropped the pill, watching it fall the long way down to the ground.

"Careful with the edge!" Hermes protested. "You're going to drop me. Motorrads don't fly, you know."

Kino laughed. "You can be brave, Hermes."

Hermes grumbled as Kino began walking, across the bridge, to the road ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic you can [reblog it on tumblr](http://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/155242778625/the-country-on-the-mountain-shinealightonme).


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